


and so he falls asleep

by spaceboinate



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Cutting, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Sad Ending, idk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 20:01:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5261606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceboinate/pseuds/spaceboinate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which he feels that he's never good enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and so he falls asleep

**Author's Note:**

> ((I'm not writing this to make fun of any of these problems, this is simply to take out my own feelings on, and to also help me get his character right. So, I'm sorry if this harms anyone or makes anyone upset. If you are triggered by any of the warnings, PLEASE DON'T READ.))

His eyes focus on the blade in his hands, blood already swimming in the basin underneath him. His hair is unruly, strands falling in front of his pale face.

To the world, he's a figure of beauty.

But to himself, he's a monster.

He had caused all of his siblings to leave him, had pushed them all away until they didn't want him anymore.

He smiles as he spots more blood drip down. Its not a kind smile, but rather a broken one, a cry of anguish and a cry for help.

He knows no one would help him, however. They had all left him and he knew they wouldn't even notice him doing this to himself.

At times he wishes his addiction with opium was stronger, then he wouldn't be able to feel. But he knew that not feeling was the worse feeling of all. So instead, he opts to keeping the drug hidden, and only using it when he got too stressed.

Sighing, he shakes his head and stands shakily, feeling the world spin dangerously. He needed to cover up quickly.

And people always wonder why he wears such long sleeves.

Grabbing some bandages and salve from his cupboard, he cleans the cuts, then covers them. Satisfied, he lets his sleeves drop back down as he looks back up at himself.

He would never be okay, he knows this. He's lost too much to ever be okay again.

Wordlessly, his hand goes to his back. Sometimes he wishes that Kiku's sword had killed him that day, and he curses his immortality.

Countless times he's tried - and each time has led to him waking up in his own bed as if he had never died.

With a sigh, he stares at his reflection, his pale face and sunken eyes face back at him. He sees the faces of all those beloved to him behind him, all shaking their heads in shame.

It's his worst nightmare, for those he loves to only see him as a monster, but he knows it's reality.

Knowing that they would never look at him with love, he knows that they wouldn't even notice how he draws on himself at night. They wouldn't notice that the blade has become his new best friend.

They wouldn't notice how small he's become.

With a sigh, he sits down on the cool tile floor, feeling weak and dizzy from loss of blood. As he closes his eyes, he decides that a nap would do him good.

And so he falls asleep.


End file.
